


I Can't Help This Awful Energy

by mythomagicallydelicious



Series: Who is In Control? [1]
Category: Critical Role
Genre: Bullying, Fjord's backstory, Gen, Rated T for language, dental work, fjord doing his own dental
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:21:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24062026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mythomagicallydelicious/pseuds/mythomagicallydelicious
Summary: A series of moments from Fjord's life that have built and shaped his perspective on what it means to have and wield control.
Series: Who is In Control? [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1735969
Comments: 4
Kudos: 30





	I Can't Help This Awful Energy

**9**

Fjord ducked under a vendor’s table, earning an angry “Hey!” thrown at him as he took off running down the alley behind the stall. The vendor yelled more as a pack of kids nearly upturned it as they raced after Fjord. His heart pounded in his chest and he could feel the burn in his muscles as he kept running, trying to lose the group behind him.

Their jeers grew distant behind him as he squeezed between slick alley walls and ducked between buildings. Finally he slowed, scrawny chest heaving, crouching behind a low wall and peaking over the top behind him.

He no longer heard their calls or steps behind him. It was clear of people in this area, as far as he could see. He tried to slow his breathing, turning with his back to the wall and sliding down so he was propped against it, knees pulled to his chest as he tried to shake the fight and ensuing chase. He carefully felt his jaw and winced, feeling a tender lump swelling there. His fingers caught on the tip of his tusks and he felt anger swallow the exhaustion he’d been settling into.

“Stupid _fucking_ people and my stupid _fucking_ teeth,” he grits out in a shaky voice. He ignores the way he can feel his eyes pricking with tears. He hides his face behind his knees, forehead resting atop them, muttering under his breath and swearing and decidedly _not_ crying about any of it.

**11**

“My parents died, but your parents just didn’t want you. I mean, who would?” the boys laugh raucously as their leader continues. “Just look at you! You’re nothing but a weak, pathetic excuse for an orc. Not even that. You’re barely a person!”

**12**

Fjord retreats to the loneliest place he's managed to find at the Driftwood Asylum. There's a hole in one wall that's been shoddily patched with a few pieces of wood, with no time or money to really fix it, just barred enough so no kid goes falling in unexpectedly. He lifts one side of a piece of wood up, still skinny enough to slip between the slats of wood and into the space behind the wall. With a little bit of climbing and some heavy relying on his darkvision, he manages to climb up the side of the wall and into the cramped attic space of the orphanage. 

In parts the roof of the asylum is barely three feet higher than the floor. In the center, it stands a good eight or nine feet higher. Fjord crawls over to a space he created up there for himself, an extra blanket and a few squirreled away items he's managed to get his hands on. He'd charmed the old woman down the road from the orphanage to spare him the blanket he was currently lying on, keeping him warm in the drafty space.

Fjord reaches into a bag he keeps beneath the blanket with the other items he's brought up here. A lucky rock, a couple of books, a swig or two of alcohol he'd swiped from the nurse, some extra rope he found one day. And a knife. A bit dull, but still sharp enough to get the job done. He pulls the knife up to his chin and uses his other hand as a guide. 

He shuts his eyes tightly against the uncomfortable, but familiar sensation of sawing down his front teeth. The two tusks that stuck out, marking him even more noticeably than his green skin as _different_. He thought about all the taunts from the other children he's heard. The dirty looks from merchants in town, or the obvious way some mothers pulled their children closer to their skirts as they walked about Port Damali. Fjord remembers all that and more as he grinds the knife to his tusks, slowly shaving them down. 

He knew he'd only have so much time to himself before his absence would be noted. A side effect of being the easiest target was that he never managed to go far without getting tattled on for having "disappeared." Over the next few minutes he worked, a portion of the blanket stuffed into his mouth to keep himself quiet as he worked. 

Finally he set the knife down and felt over his tusks. He'd done a good job, they were much lower, just under his lip, now. They'd be barely visible upon first glance, he's sure. 

Carefully, he puts away his small collection of treasures, stealing a taste of the alcohol he reserves as a treat for the pain of the action. He crawls back down to the main level as quietly as he can, waiting until the coast is clear before exiting the wall and replacing the beam. 

As he walks back to the shared dorm, his shoulders hunch and he looks side to side, waiting to be pounced on for another of his obvious flaws.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! I decided to make this a series instead of a chapter by chapter fic so each part could have its own warnings in place, or let you be able to skip a part if you want to. I hope you enjoy! I've been working on the word doc with the rest of these stories for a while, because lately Fjord has been near and dear to my heart.
> 
> Kudos and comments appreciated! 
> 
> And as always, please let me know if you think I missed a tag. I love to keep it comfortable for all readers.
> 
> Thanks for stopping by! I promise, there will eventually be more familiar characters added to the series :D


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